


The Missing

by KimberlyLikesCherries



Series: 88’s Bizarre Adventures [1]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Horror, Loosely based off Corpse Party, More tags as I go, Multi, Violence, an AU of my AU, because I got writers block, doing this for the hell of it, probably, with slight Silent Hill elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23943949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyLikesCherries/pseuds/KimberlyLikesCherries
Summary: The Delta High Literature Club was a tight nit group of friends, each with their own hopes and dreams for the future. 88 swore that he’d help and guide them for as long as he could before they inevitably started their own lives.Every day, twelve people stayed after school; One day they didn’t go home.
Relationships: Dream/88/Nightmare, Dust/Horror, Error/Reaper, Ink/Blue, killer/cross
Series: 88’s Bizarre Adventures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760920
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Cross woke up slowly, groggy and confused. His entire front half ached and creaked like he’d flopped into a pool of water from a tall diving board.

He groaned and forced his body up, leaning heavily on his forearms as he struggled to pull his legs under him.

Damn! It felt like that one time those damn older year guys kicked his ass behind the school bleachers. Actually, is that what happened? Last thing Cross could remember was sitting in the library with his friends and boyfriend for Literature Club.

Suddenly worried about his boyfriend, Cross pushed himself up with a pained grunt. He forced himself to look around.

“What...the hell?” He muttered.

This- this was definitely a school, but...but it couldn’t be his! The room he was in was so old! And dilapidated! The paint on the walls were peeling, like it hadn’t seen a fresh paint job in years. The desks around him were old, and covered in dust.

The tile floor, he realized with some disgust, was liberally covered in paint chips and debris; bits of plaster and ceiling insulation probably if the entire broken chunk only a few feet away was any indication.

Ugh, and it was all over him! Cross frantically dusted himself down, feeling like he needed an eight hour deep clean just to get the feeling of ickiness off him.

“Damn it.” Cross hissed before sneezing. There was just no way this stuff was coming off without a good two or three cycles in the washing machine.

There was a groan off to the side, followed by a yelp and groan as something banged against a desk somewhere towards the front of the classroom.

Cross’s eye sockets widened, and he froze.

“H-hello..?” He stuttered, nervous.

The groaning cut off. As his hackles raised, Cross could have smacked himself; realizing he’d just done a classic horror movie move that always got the character in trouble.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! He hissed to himself.

Just as Cross was about to make a break for it, a more nervous voice called back.

“Cross? Is that you?”

Cross shot up, barely missing the corner of a desk and completely forgetting the aches in his body.

“Killer!” He cried, painfully limping his way over as fast as he could, “Killer are you okay?!”

Killer blearily looked up at his boyfriend, blinking away the stars in his eyes, before blanching and stumbling to his feet quickly.

“Forget me!” He cried, meeting the other halfway, “Are you okay? Your bleeding!”

Cross gave him a confused look, leaning heavily on a barely stable desk covered in graffiti beside them.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, looking down at himself. Cross paused when he saw a bright stream of red sluggishly trailing down his limp hand and fingers, dripping casually onto the disgusting tile floor.

“Oh. I didn’t even notice.” Cross noted absently, sort of confused. He couldn’t actually feel it under the rest of the pain screaming at him.

Actually, he was having a hard time feeling it at all. Cross tried to move it just to make sure it still worked, and luckily it twitched on command, so there was that.

“Take off your shirt.” Killer demanded.

Cross managed a small wink, “Doesn’t seem like an appropriate time for that, babe, but maybe later~.”

Killer short him an unimpressed glare, huffing and pulling up the hem of the black shirt himself frantically, fingers digging into the fabric.

“H-hey! Just wait a second!” Cross yelped. Thoughtlessly he grabbed Killer’s hand with his own bloodied one, only for Killer to cringe and let go, stumbling back.

“Ack! Damn it Cross!” Killer cried, flailing his hand around in the air wildly to the side while frantically looking around for something to wipe his hand on.

”Uh...whoops.” Cross muttered sheepishly, “Hold on, I think I’ve got something you can clean your hand off with in my pocket.”

Carefully he switched his weight fully onto his good leg, hesitantly using his bad one for balance as he gingerly took his hand off the desk he was using for balance.

Killer watched this worriedly, even as he held his hand out like it was covered in snakes instead of his friend’s marrow. 

Cross was sort of proud of his boyfriend. The first time Killer had seen Cross bleed, he’d practically hyperventilated into unconsciousness. The bullies had gotten a real laugh out of that; but Cross got the last laugh that day.

The skeleton dug his clean hand into a pocket, searching out for that pesky cloth Dust keeps shoving into it when Cross wasn’t looking.

“A-ha!” He cried victoriously. Without thinking about it Cross took a step forward, hand outstretched to Killer, “Here you go!”

A crack filled the still air around them; Killer jumped at the sound but quickly recovered and rushed to catch the falling skeleton.

Cross landed in his arms heavily, a soft keen passing through gritted teeth.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Killer asked frantically, patting the other’s back; completely forgetting about the marrow on his hand.

“Y-yeah,” Cross forced out, “Just- I think I hurt my leg.”

He felt Killer tense under him- and oh, wasn’t that a nice thought? Very distracting. Almost distracting enough to lessen the- fuck, who was he kidding. His damn shin felt like it was on fire!

“You idiot, why did you try and walk on it then?!” Killer scolded, “Let me look at it.”

With his boyfriend’s help, Cross managed to twist around and sit with his bad leg stretched out in front of him, complaining the entire time.

“Come on you big baby, stop your complainin’.” Killer huffed, reaching down to lift the leg of Cross’ sweatpants. The school didn’t allow shorts, for some ridiculous reason.

Which was really fucking annoying because Killer knew Cross preferred shorts and it would be so much easier to find out what was wrong if he didn’t have to worry about the fabric catching on damaged bone!

Killer gasped, finally seeing the damage.

“Well babe?” Cross gritted out, “Am I done for? Is this the end?”

Killer smacked his good leg, “Don’t say crap like that- especially not right now when you’ve got a giant freaking crack up your shin!”

“Ouch, really?” Cross glanced down, but the best he could see was probably the last few centimeters towards the bottom.

Killer seemed to debate with himself for a moment before closing his eye sockets in concentration, hands hovering over Cross’ leg.

Slowly a faint green glow spread through his boyfriend’s hands, and Cross quickly leaned forward and smacked them away in alarm.

“Ah! Hey, what the hell babe?!”

“Don’t you dare!” he snapped, “Save that for something more important.”

“What’s more important than you?!” Killer demanded.

Cross huffed, “We have no idea where we are, or how we got here. Let’s atleast figure out what’s going on before you go wasting magic on me.”

Killer gritted his teeth and threw his hands into the air, “Fine! But don’t you dare call it a waste; you are not a waste!”

Cross smiled, “Love you too, Killer.”  
———

Blue grumbled and rolled over, pulling away from the hands shaking him.

Someone above him cried out in alarm and suddenly those hands were back, gripping onto his shirt and arm with what felt like all their might.

“Ow, hey,” Blue groaned, “Let up, that hurts...”

“Trust me when I say you really don’t want me to do that right now!” A voice laughed with a slight edge of hysteria.

Blue wiggles around a little, trying to push himself back the way he came to maybe loosen the hold, but then his feet met open air. Blue threw his sockets open wide just in time to see his feet swing down below him into a hole in the floor he was laying next to.

Blue felt his soul drop in horror along with his body, but the tight grip of hands didn’t let him go much farther before pulling him right back up.

Terrified, Blue went limp and turned his head to stare up at whoever had him.

“Oh Star! Ink!” Blue cried, “Please, please, please! Whatever you do, don’t drop me!”

Ink smiled back down at his friend with a strained smile, “Wasn’t planning on it!”

With a grunt Ink began carefully pulling his friend back, stretching out Blues shirt horribly but anything was better than finding his dust later.

As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Blue was frantically pushing himself back. He ended up curling into Ink in a fetal position between the older’s legs, but Blue honestly could not care. His entire body was shaking so badly that Blue could hear his ribs jittering under his shirt; he tried very hard not to let his teeth do the same.

Ink didn’t loosen his hold even a little, and if Blue wasn’t so shaken up by the experience, he would have realized not all the shaking was his own.

They didn’t move for a long while after that.  
——

88 frowned, looking down at his precious twins. 

“It really can’t get much worse than this.” He muttered down to the passed out duo, “You guys really do have some of the worst luck.”

He looked between Dream’s pale grimace and Nightmare’s blissful grin. Reluctantly he turned his back on them and walked to the classroom door.

“Well, atleast one of you is going to be fine.” 88 called, “Keep an eye socket out for your brother while I’m gone, Nightmare. I’m gonna find some help.” 

By the time the twins awoke, he was long gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop woop. Apparently my writers block extends even farther from just my main story. This was so hard to type up; it literally took all day.

Dust slammed his hands down against the unyielding window, “Damn it!”

“No luck huh?”

The skeleton whirled around to the Teacher, temper flaring.

“You could help you know!” He cried.

Reaper raised a bone brow and glanced down to the hyperventilating junior he was crouching beside, “Not unless you want Horror by himself right now.”

Horror started gasping harder.

“N-no! P-“ He wheezed desperately, hands reaching out to grasp Reaper’s shirt, “Please-!”

Dust hurried over and knelt beside Horror, pulling him into a hug and whispering reassurances to the older boy. Reaper moved back a bit with a sigh, but made sure not to go too far. Most of his boys were prickly about who touched them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t want you there at all; Horror’s death grip of his shirt was the only evidence he needed to prove that.

When Horror’s breathing settled into something less alarming, Dust turned to his Club Teacher.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” He asked, voice desperate but poker face going strong.

Reaper always found it curious how the sixteen year old could fool everyone with eyes, but not a single person with ears in a poker game; 88 had found it super frustrating, because sometimes Dust just wouldn’t respond when the taller skeleton taunted him. 

“Kid, I know about as much as you.” Reaper sighed, looking around at the frankly alarming amount of dust around them. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think that some of it was actually Monster Dust...

Reaper winced; then again, this whole room was setting his Death senses off like a metal detector in an iron box, which was...pretty alarming actually. Every part of him was screaming “Find the kids, get the kids, run!”

There was a knock on the classroom door and all three skeletons froze, staring at it with wide eye sockets. Reaper hadn’t realized just how close they were to it until now.

“What do we do?” Dust whispered urgently, the red of his eye lights becoming more prominent in fear.

“Just stay quiet, and turn your eye lights off.” Reaper murmured back, sockets glaring hard at the window gap in the door. The room they were in was dark, and the hallway did seem to have some sort of light out there; so as long as they stayed still and didn’t make any sounds, whoever was out there wouldn’t be able to see them.

The boys did as they were told and Horror covered his mouth desperately with his shirt, probably trying to muffle his heavy breathing. Luckily, it helped.

The knocking stopped.

“Come out, come out wherever you are; I know you’re around here somewhere.” A child giggled from behind the door.

Reaper felt shivers running up and down his spine, the previous alarms in his head turning into tornado sirens.

“Danger, Danger, Danger!” It screamed, “Don’t let the kids over there!”

Without really thinking about it, Reaper pulled the two highschoolers closer to him. He took his dark trench coat off and wrapped it around them, covering up their lighter colored clothes.

Reaper had never been happier to wear solid black all the time.  
——-

Error and Papyrus walked the halls as quietly as they could, carefully avoiding unnaturally squishy tile floors and fallen light fixtures. 

“This place is pretty creepy, huh?” Error wondered, glancing around cautiously.

88 would have his head if his little brother got hurt. His best friend had a mean streak a mile wide when it came to Papyrus; and even though 88 wasn’t with them now, Error just knew 88 would find a way to make him suffer if Papyrus came to any harm.

Papyrus was looking around too, but with ever increasing nerves, “Error, I want my brother. I want to go home.”

Error frowned, “I know kiddo. So do I.”

The older skeleton offered out a gloved hand and little Papyrus quickly latched on.

They walked a few more feet in silence when Papyrus looked over down a side corridor and stopped in his tracks with wide sockets.

“Huh? Papyrus, what’s-“ Papyrus took off down the hallway.

“PAPYRUS! Papyrus where are you going?!” He cried, quickly catching up with the child. The little bones bent down and grabbed something.

“Look!” Papyrus demanded, turning and shoving a weird lump of yellow in his face.

Error flinched back, “Ack! Papyrus, easy! Slow down for a second.” 

He put on his red rimmed glasses- which had miraculously survived the fall- and gave the bundle a better look.

“Hey, wait, is that-“

“Brother’s jacket!” Papyrus chirped, smiling widely.

It was a good replica if it wasn’t; that same faded yellow, stretched out fabric that 88 wore without fail for four years even in the heat of summer.

Error carefully fingered the fabric. Besides being covered is dirt and bits of insolation, it was in pretty good shape; but there was only one way to know for sure if it was 88’s.

“Let me see that for a second.” 

Papyrus reluctantly let him take it, and Error quickly flipped it around to the back where two faded white numbers sat boldly on the back.

“Yup. This is 88’s.” Error proclaimed, but instead of feeling happy he could only frown down at the jacket.

Papyrus has no such issue however.

“This is great! If this is here, he must be close by!” He cheered.

Error could bring himself to point out that Papyrus’ older brother hated when his jacket wasn’t on him, and would rather die than leave it behind anywhere. Papyrus was finally smiling, he couldn’t take that away from him.

“Well,” Error sighed, “Looks like we have a new mission.”

“Search for brother!” Papyrus cried.

“Search for 88.” Error agreed.  
———

“Not that I’m not enjoying your suffering or anything, but I really think we need to get moving now. It’s been almost an hour.”

“Shut up brother,” Dream groaned, “Not all of us can stomach pure negative energy like you.”

Nightmare grimaced as Dream heaved up more digested magic onto the floor. He’d have given the other a trash can if he’d found one, but if there wasn’t one in this room then there probably wasn’t one anywhere close by either.

Suddenly both froze, feeling a surge of magic in the air followed by an ear piercing screech. 

The twins covered the sides of their skull with their hands and cried out in pain.

”w-what is that?!” Dream yelled over the sound.

“How should I know?!” 

The ground started rumbling and shaking under them; old light bulbs fell from the ceiling, decaying books spilled from shelves, and the old blackboard at the front of the class dropped to the floor with a huge clatter.

Nightmare did his best to stay standing, but when he used an adjacent chair for leverage the chair collapsed under his weight. He landed on his hand hard, and over the screeching he could almost hear a snap. 

Just as suddenly as it started, the chaos stopped. The room fell into dead silence.

“Holy shit!” Dream exclaimed.


End file.
